


Beast in Human Skin

by the_little_bay_that_could



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Ramsay is his own warning, Sith, Torture, but it's not crack, sith ramsay, star wars- game of thrones crossover, this is supposed to be kind of humorous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_little_bay_that_could/pseuds/the_little_bay_that_could
Summary: A Star Wars-Game of Thrones crossover. Darth Sidious takes Ramsay Bolton as his apprentice. Sidious is intrigued and even disgusted by the twisted young man. Is Ramsay the only person in the universe more evil than Sidious?My brother gave me the idea for this story.





	Beast in Human Skin

Men such as Lord Sidious are exceedingly difficult to make an impression on. Within his gnarled old hands, Dark Lord Sidious holds control of the present and future fate of the galaxy. He is an Emperor, the Sith who conquered the galaxy! Entire planets and races have been obliterated in his name, in his pursuit of power. Like a god, he sees All. His foresight allowed him to foresee the fall of the Jedi and the rise of Vader. 

The Dark Lord is also an infinitely cruel being, even more twisted than his mangled appearance. Nothing gave him such great joy as seeing and feeling the Jedi slaughtered in droves. The sensation was akin to orgasming, prompting Lord Sidious to howl in delight! Can you imagine? Of all the sultry and sensual pleasures this galaxy offers, he gets off on genocide! And all those billions of people killed in his galactic conquest? A necessary sacrifice for the growth of his own power. And that is all he really cares about — power. No fleshly beings are of any concern to him. Sidious loves only his own power. 

All this being said, I’m sure you can understand Lord Sidious is a very hard man to impress, and an even harder man to disgust. Yet, a certain man has managed to do just that. God help the poor soul that ever stumbles across this wicked being! Surely, this man must be the devil himself. Or even worse! In fact, the devil is positively appalled by him. But our dear Emperor? He is fascinated has decided take this certain man as an apprentice.

The monster I speak of is called Ramsay Bolton, the bastard son of Roose Bolton. Unlike the dreadful appearance of Lord Sidious, the bastard has quite a charming look about him. His dark brown hair is shaggy with a gentle wave, and his eyes are as blue and piercing as the icy sky of Hoth and Winterfell. His face is somewhat wide, but finely structured and even charming. But do not let his good looks fool you — he is nothing short of a maniac! When he smiles, it is easy to see the madness that lurks beneath that charming veneer. When he smiles, you best pray to whatever god you worship, for Ramsay only smiles when he is about to hurt somebody. This awful little smirk forms on his mouth, and his eyes widen, becoming psychotic and feral. At that very moment, he is imagining all the ways he will torture whatever poor soul stands before him. Perhaps he will gouge out their eyes, drive nails into their tender skin, cut them apart, finger by finger, limb by limb, saw off their manhood and make them suck it like some common whore, or maybe he will resort to the Bolton family trademark and flay them alive! 

When Sidious engages in heinous activities, it is (generally) only because the object of his torturedeeply wronged him in some way. But no incentive, no great betrayal or crime, is required for the young Lord Bolton to torture. No, he simply does it because he finds it amusing and gets a great kick out of it! Some people race speeders or read books for fun, but Ramsay tortures! God forbid he should ever find himself bored — he’ll drag some poor Rebel prisoner from his cell and torture him not necessarily for answers, but for the sake of torture. 

Sidious was visiting Winterfell when he discovered Ramsay. He traveled to The North, in the land of Westeros, to meet with Lord Roose Bolton, the warden of The North. Yet, when he arrived, Roose Bolton was dead and his bastard son, Ramsay, had taken over as warden of The North. All of this seemed rather peculiar to the Emperor, and he when he inquired about Roose Bolton’s death, Ramsay replied, in an altogether dispassionate tone, that he was poisoned by the enemies. Unconvinced, Sidious peered into Ramsay’s mind. What he found was intriguing: not only was the young man remarkably Force sensitive, but in the pursuit of power, he stabbed his own father to death, with no qualms about it. 

And so, that was how the fated master and apprentice met. Sidious did not press Ramsay for the truth about his father, and instead inquired about the Rebel presence in The North and the state of Imperial troops now under Ramsay’s command. With excitement, Ramsay spoke of eradicating the Rebels in The North. With even more excitement still, he detailed how he and his men flayed a Rebel unit alive. Sidious saw evidence of this torture — twelve skinned bodies hung on trees throughout the lands surrounding Winterfell, a message to anyone who dare rebel against the Empire.

All of this was very pleasing to Sidious. Ramsay was a strong and cunning military commander, powerful with the Force, and had a penchant for torture and murder. Oh, what a fine apprentice he’d make! True, he was a treacherous bastard, turning even on his own father, but treachery is the way of the Sith.

The Dark Lord offered Ramsay a place at his side. He enchanted the bastard with tales of power and conquest, intending to manipulate Ramsay into becoming another docile and dangerous servant, much like Darth Vader. Perhaps this was an oversight on Sidious’s part. The bastard was born to be a Sith, but he was no slave like Vader. He was duplicitous and monstrous. The perfect Sith. Just six months into his apprenticeship, Sidious wondered: how long until the apprentice turned on the master? Of course, Ramsay still had much to learn in the way of the Force, but Sidious knew he would never be as loyal as Vader.

But what a wicked thing his apprentice was! Sidious relished in the young lord’s darkness, yet some of Ramsay’s actions shocked him, and were even rather distasteful. He was a beast in human skin. It was as if the Dark Side itself birthed this boy. Sidious once considered Vader his greatest creation, but even Vader did not revel in murder the way Ramsay did. When Vader slaughtered civilians, he did it for Sidious and the Empire. He did it because he had to. Ramsay however, tortured, raped, and killed because he wanted to. It was his hobby! Often, Sidious found his apprentice returning from the torture dungeons, the blood of another man painted on his body like a piece of splatter art, a deranged smile etched on his face.

The Rebels were terrified and sickened by him. He mutilated all the Rebels he captured and got a nice laugh out of sending the Rebels pieces of their comrades’ bodies. Sometimes he’d send them his victim’s genitalia, or maybe a foot, an arm, an eyeball, or even a head. 

Ramsay suggested decorating a Star Destroyer with the heads of their enemies, but the Dark Lord rejected this offer, much to his apprentice’s dismay. Such displays of brutality were loathsome and did not belong in civilized society. But Ramsay was not a civilized man, was he?

Sidious’ apprentice loved to play games! Yet, it was not board games he adored. Whenever their ship landed on a planet, Ramsay gathered his hounds and some Stormtroopers. He gave the Stormtroopers a five minute head start before he and his hounds hunted them down.

“Let the hunt begin!” he always shouted in maniacal glee. And the Stormtroopers’ attempts to escape were constantly futile. When Ramsay and his hounds caught them, he either butchered them himself or let his dogs eat them alive. Occasionally, the bastard asked Sidious if he wanted to participate in the little game, but Sidious always declined. Such brutish games were below him, but he let his apprentice have his fun.

As distasteful as Ramsay’s actions were, some of his actions also delighted Sidious. The boy was a talented fighter and a strong military commander. He crushed Rebel forces with resounding power, and after his missions, he always brought his master back a present.

“Lord Sidious,” he strode into the Emperor’s Throne Room, having just returned from a mission in Lothal. As is customary, he bowed his head and dropped to a knee.

“My apprentice,” Sidious hissed, “You have crushed the Rebel fleet in Lothal.”

“Yes, my lord. And I brought you a gift.” Sidious felt a smirk form on the boy’s face as he pulled two heads out of the bag he was carrying. “The heads of the Rebel commanders in Lothal! You should have seen how they screamed and cried as I flayed them and their troops alive.”

“Is this why it took you so long to return? You were busy playing your little games with the Rebels? Your arrival is long overdue.”

“I was merely teaching them a lesson, my lord. Are you unhappy with my gift?”

“It is not your gift I am displeased with (in fact, he was delighted by it). Your performance in Lothal was impressive, yet it is a waste of valuable time to torture and flay men that will inevitably die. I needed your presence elsewhere, my apprentice.”

“I am honoring my family tradition! The Bolton’s skin men, and so that is what I shall do. Besides, what is the fun in allowing them a quick death?”  


Whether or not it was a waste of time, Ramsay was not to be dissuaded from this tradition. To tell Ramsay Bolton to not flay and torture is much like stealing candy from child. Try and take it from him, and he will throw a fit (and then kill you too)! So Sidious was forced to continue to let Ramsay have his candy. 

It displeased the Dark Lord to admit it, but Ramsay disturbed him. He was uncontrollable, untamed, bestial. Not even Sidious took such great joy in torture and murder. The bastard often walked around wearing a trophy necklace made from the fingers of Rebel commanders. It was an abhorrent thing to look at, yet Ramsay wore it with pride!

“Why do you insist on wearing such a thing?” Sidious inquired one day, the disgust evident in his voice. It is not that the Emperor went soft or developed a conscience, but he was a man of high society! And that _thing_ was brutish, savage! It had no place in civilized society!

“To show the galaxy of my accomplishments, my lord. These fingers are my trophies, plucked from the fingers of ten Rebel commanders I killed myself!” His eyes grew wide and wild, his smirk so maniacal it may as well have been painted with blood. “What’s the matter my dear lord, you don’t like it? Not many man can boast such an accomplishment. Ten high ranking Rebel commanders dead by my hand within two years! Are you unimpressed?” 

“You shall not speak to me in such a brazen manner, boy,” the Emperor scowled, wrapping Ramsay’s neck in a Force choke. Even as he wheezed and levitated three feet in the air, he smiled that devilish smile. “That trophy necklace is as beastly as you.” Sidious released his hold and Ramsay fell to the floor. 

“Beastly? Maybe. But to me, those fingers are like what diamonds are to a lady. And you wouldn’t take a diamond necklace from a lady, now would you?” 

“Get out of my sight boy.” 

That was not the end to Ramsay’s antics. No, not by a long shot. After a particularly lengthy mission, he returned to Sidious’s Star Destroyer, dragging a captured Rebel soldier with him. Now, this soldier was no commander. In fact, this soldier was without significance, and held little information useful to the Empire. Yet, Ramsay insisted on keeping him, turning him into his personal little pet.

Ramsay behaved particularly cruelly to this wretched soldier. The soldier hadn’t wronged Ramsay, but the Sith apprentice simply liked torturing him. After all, Ramsay faced something of a lull in his usually hectic schedule. And how else could he mitigate his boredom, but with torture? Ramsay tormented his prisoner daily. When he wasn’t carving into then man’s skin with a knife or cutting off one of his appendages, he played psychological games, which were every bit as cruel as the physical torture. The Sith apprentice lied to the poor soldier, telling the soldier that he singlehandedly killed his entire unit. At this, the soldier screamed and cried _How could you? How could you?!_ Of course, Ramsay laughed a laugh that cut as deep as his knives, a laugh that seemed to forever echo throughout the torture chamber.

“I shall call you Reek!” Ramsay announced to the soldier one day. “Get it, because you reek, Reek?” He laughed slightly, throughly amused at his own joke. “I think the name suits you well! Reek! And reek rhymes with meek, weak, leak, freak, shriek! Which you’ve been doing quite a lot lately, haven’t you Reek?”

Reeks eyes filled with pain, his body tensed with terror, but Ramsay was delighted! How clever he was! How funny! His blue eyes were fiendish and full of joy. In his hand he twirled the knife he used to torture Reek.

The Dark Lord detested that his apprentice insisted on bringing Reek with him wherever he went. Reek always limped behind Ramsay as he strode across the Star Destroyer, or made his way to meetings or dinners with high ranking Imperial officers. Ramsay’s little pet lived up to his name — he smelled dreadful. At the very sight and smell of deplorable thing, Sidious wrinkled his nose in disgust. Sidious didn’t particularly care whether or not Ramsay kept the thing, but to drag it around with him was barbaric! The thing must remain locked up, not hobbling around for Imperial officers to see. It was uncivilized and Sidious and the Empire had a certain status to retain. But the finer points of high society meant nothing to Ramsay. In fact, Ramsay disregarded standard societal rules altogether. The only codes he followed were his own. 

“Keep that _thing_ you called Reek locked up. It has no place roaming around the Star Destroyer. I can smell it from across the ship.”

“But Master, he is my servant. I have put a great deal of work into him to make him this way. Reek does what I say when I say!”

“Perhaps you can learn a thing or two from it and do what _I_ say when _I_ say you insolent bastard.” 

“As you wish, my lord,” Ramsay growled.  

Yet just two weeks later, Reek once again dragged behind Ramsay as the young lord went about his daily duties. This infuriated Sidious. The bastard refused to heed his Master’s commands. Sidious electrocuted Ramsay with a seemingly ceaseless current of Force lighting. He became as cruel to Ramsay as he was to Vader, but he knew he could never force the young lord into becoming a docile servant. The boy was far too wicked. More evil than Vader, even more maniacal than Sidious himself. 

Sidious feared that taking Ramsay as an apprentice was a mistake — a potentially fatal mistake. Men as evil and powerful as Sidious fear very little. The only thing they are afraid of is losing their power. And that bastard was insane, vicious, and treacherous. He threatened Sidious’s power in a way Vader never did. Perhaps the Emperor was a fool in taking something so monstrous as an apprentice. Throughout the galaxy, Ramsay came to be known as the beast in human skin. Many people wondered if he was even human at all. How could something so sinister and foul and depraved be human?

Sensing Ramsay’s growing power with the Force, Sidious plotted his murder. The boy threatened the Emperor’s power and could not be allowed to live. Meanwhile, the apprentice planned to kill the master. Ramsay no longer had any use for Sidious, and so the Great Emperor had to die. And then the throne would be his, the galaxy would his. It would _all_ be his. 

It was inevitable that the master plotted to kill the apprentice, and the apprentice the master. You see, they both desired the throne, they both wanted the power. And when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. But who killed who is irrelevant, because in the end, both men die. In the end, empires fall and all men must die. 


End file.
